


A Sunset in Gehenna Valley

by RachaelBmine



Category: Doctor Who, Supernatural
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 23:37:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1706732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RachaelBmine/pseuds/RachaelBmine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam are looking for ways to kill the Leviathan. They hide out in the bunker doing all the research they can but keep coming up with nothing. Suddenly a blue box shows up in the War room carrying the Doctor and Martha Jones, the result of the Doctor’s attempt to show her Manhattan. Will Dean be able to focus on something other than Martha? Will the Doctor, and his extensive knowledge of strange species, be able to shed light on what the Leviathan really are? Will the hunters be able to trust this mad man and his fiercely intelligent, and gorgeous, companion enough to band together in the race to stop the Leviathan?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Come in Peace

Sam sat nursing a warm beer as he always did when he hit a wall in his research. He didn’t know what time it was but he felt like he’d been reading for hours. The words had begun to melt across the page and his eyes were watering almost constantly. I was obviously break time… or maybe bed time. He glanced over at the adjacent table where Dean had been working. The books were strewn across the table and Dean had his face planted in the pages of a ridiculously large book. There goes the legibility of that particular page. Light snores rose from the volume, disproving the theory that Dean was attempting to absorb the knowledge via osmosis. Sam smirked at the thought. Dean wasn’t the researching type, he did it when it was needed but he loathed it. Sam found it reassuring to know his enemy before going into the fight. It eased his mind. This Leviathan problem, however, was like nothing he had ever come across and that was terrifying. He pushed his chair back with a loud scrape and allowed his long legs to stretch and flex in an attempt to recover from the cramped hours he spent hunched over dusty books. 

After hoisting himself up he turned to call for Dean, they both needed rest in real beds. A gust of wind blew suddenly and caught every piece of paper up and flung them towards the back of the library. Sam stumbled back in shock, his long hair flying wildly about his face, and tripped over his displaced chair. Then the sound came rushing and roaring, rising and falling. It sounded like a missile wizzing in and out of the War room, searching but never finding its target. Sam, his eyes wide and searching for the source of the terrible sound, scrambled to reach the Beretta that always stayed tucked in the waist of his pants at his back.

“Dean!” he bellowed. Dean leapt from his sleep like a coil that had been tightened and held in place for too long. His pulled his weapon so quickly the movement was almost imperceptible. His body’s reaction was natural and smooth from years of repetitive motion; his hands fell into place around the pearl inset of his favorite gun without as much as a thought. He looked around with reddened eyes and his heart was pounding as the adrenaline rushing through his veins, waiting for the attack.

“Sammy, what the HELL!” the sound of whirring had increased, completely filling the room, and the papers continued their onslaught against the two men.

Sam looked towards the War room from his position on the floor aiming at whatever was possibly coming. He rubbed his eyes roughly; the sleep must be blurring his vision because he was sure he saw something. The sound was echoing through the bunker so loudly he could barely think. That was when Dean started firing his weapon in that general direction. The rectangular box began to come into view, materializing and fading repeatedly, like an animal breathing itself into existence. 

“Dean, stop! Hold your fire!” Sam yelled over the cacophony the box was making. “What the fuck it that? Sammy what did you do?” Dean yelled after putting his ballistic onslaught on pause. The younger brother, feeling indignant, scrambled to his feet but never dropped his aim. “Me! What is that supposed to mean Dean?” he yelled. The box began to take on a more solid appearance. It was black, or maybe blue, with a light on the top. Finally the gusts of wind died down and there it was. It sat there in the War room as if it had always been there. Big, blue, and wood all over. It looked like an old phone booth but it read “Police Public Call Box” across the top above the doors. It was so ordinary and harmless looking but so had so many other monsters, and Sam had vowed to never be tricked again.  


“What the hell is a phone booth doing in our secret bunker Sammy?” asked Dean with a mixture of fear and exasperation in his voice.  


“Why do you think I had anything to do with this?”  


“I fall asleep for two seconds! Two sec—“  


“Don’t take this out on me Dean. I had NOTHING to do with THIS!”  


“Now look who’s yelling! If this is your idea of a prank Sammy I swear I will kill—“  


“Oh right Dean, because it’s so much fun almost getting sho--”  


Sam cut short when the sound of wood creaking caught his attention. The door on the blue box swung open and a grinning man in a pinstriped suit stepped out. “Hello!” he chirped. The stranger was greeted by half a dozen of Dean’s bullets flying.

\-- 

“Eh, Martha…” The Doctor studied the monitor that was showing him the exterior of the Tardis. “Yea? We’ve arrived haven’t we? Well come on, hop to it!” she beamed with a smile stretching across her face and anticipation sparkling in her eyes. “Well… you could say we’ve arrived… well, sort of just landed really.” He scratched the back of his head, tousling his already perfectly tousled hair a bit more. “What? Don’t be daft,” she giggled “what do you mean just landed?” The bright smiled faded when he looked over his glasses at her and motioned her over with a head nod. That look was never good. Martha looked down at the monitor and swallowed at the sight of the two men brandishing extremely large guns. “Oh bollocks,” she mumbled. “So, you’re telling me we’ve landed in the living room of two armed and paranoid Americans?”  
“Yep.”

“Okay… well, let’s just leave. No harm done, right?”

“Weeeell,” the Doctor drawled “it’s not that simple.”

“What?”

“See, the Tardis… she seems to want to stay put for a while.” He glanced up at her and was surprised to see terror on her face. “Oh Martha, they’re not Daleks. We can just, uh, talk to them.” He squeezed her shoulders and left her at the monitor. “I’ll just pop out and say hello!” he shot her his best grin and reached for the Tardis door. Martha smiled but rolled her eyes and responded with a “Good luck, you gonna need it!” 

\-- 

The bullets ricocheted off the side of the box as if it were metal or was protected somehow. “Dean, stop!” Sam exclaimed from where he had ducked behind the chair. It offered little protection for his large frame but instinct told him to stay put until his unstable older brother was done trying to kill them. “Shoot first, ask questions later Sammy. That’s how you survive.” He had his determined scowl on his face which meant Sam needed to get this situation under control or someone was going to die. “Yea, but he looked human. The least we could do is hear him out? Fine, Dean, okay. Put your gun away and I’ll try to talk to him.”  


“Like hell Sammy. I will remain armed and alive thank you very much.”  


“Well what then?” Sam was completely fed up with this situation.  


“Uh… you put yours away and I’ll cover you.” Dean started “I won’t shoot unless he tries something.”  


Sam didn’t believe that at all but it seemed to be the best plan. He would be unarmed, appearing as the peacemaker, but he knew Dean would blow this guy’s head off if he even looked like he wanted to try something. Sam placed his gun down on the cherry wood table, suddenly feeling naked, and Dean moved forward to stand beside the table Sam had been working at. Sam raised his hands and inched toward the blue box, making sure to show his palms. “He- hello?” silence followed. “Hey, um, sorry about that. We just need to know why… and how you are here.” Sam was beginning to question his constant role as the voice of reason more and more each day. After all Dean is the oldest. “See… you’ve appeared in our home… of sorts… and we need to know why.” He inched closer to the War Room’s strategy table, “I’m unarmed. My brother is going to hold on to his weapon, just in case, while we talk.” The door to the box slowly creaked open again and two hands poked out followed by a cheery “Unarmed!”

The long skinny frame of a man popped out of the door just a moment later, all smiles and expectation. He lifted his hands again and droned “I come in peace.” A huge grin spread across his face “I’ve always wanted to say that!”  



	2. Hello, I'm the Doctor

“Sam..” Dean warned from his position at the steps into the library. “Alright,” he put his hand up in Dean’s direction to calm him. “So, um, hey man… you’ve gotta fill us in on what you’re doing here because my brothers finger is starting to itch.”  


“Oh! Yes, yes of course,” he placed a hand on his chest “I am the Doctor and this is the Tardis… it’s like a spaceship.” The grin returned instantly. “A spaceship?” Dean scoffed. “Ok Sam, I’m going to go ahead and shoot this son-of-a-bitch,” he leveled his gun again and was ready to let loose. 

“Wait, just hold on,” Sam said in a smooth voice. “Spaceship, got it. That still doesn’t tell us why you are here.” 

The Doctor shoved his hands down in his pockets, “I’m not totally sure myself actually,” he said thoughtfully looking up at the ceiling. “We were on our way to Manhattan, circa 1930, but the old girl seemed to think otherwise.” 

Dean and Sam watched him as he looked at the box and rubbed the door affectionately. 

“Oh so now the spaceship time travels too?” Dean snapped. 

“What do you say we sit and have a little chat? Couldn’t hurt,” the Doctor replied, with raised brows and a shrug, as if he ended up in situations like this regularly.

He stepped forward only to be stopped by Dean’s fierce scowl, “What do you say you stay right where you are. We make the decisions around here.” 

Sam was getting a bit impatient himself, “We need a bit more than ‘I’m a Doctor, this is my spaceship and I travel through time—“

“And space!” the Doctor chimed in.

“Hey you shut your cakehole!” Dean spat, shifting his gun to his right hand and striding over to where Sam was standing.

“Dean, relax, he doesn’t seem to be very dangerous. Maybe we could just hear him out.”

Yea, little ole me. I’m not dangerous, I’m the Doctor. Here to help!”

At this both brothers looked at him, Sam shook his head, “Just… let me do the talking.”

“I have an idea. Let’s say you stow your guns... and refrain from shooting me, I will introduce you to someone who can explain all of this better than I ever could? What do you say?” He raised his hands again and backed towards the Tardis door to give it a gentle push. “Paging Dr. Martha Jones.” crooned the Doctor. He grinned at her as she glared at him from behind the monitor. "Oh come on, they're harmless... well mostly." She moved towards the front of the Tardis reluctantly. She'd never been to America but she knew that they loved two things: their privacy and their guns. Now that she and the Doctor had invaded the first, they had defaulted to the second. 

"What am I supposed to tell them? 'Oi, I'm Martha Jones and I travel to other planets with a mad man who happens to be and alien'?!" she was whispering harshly but the Doctor could see that her eyes had widened enough to show the whites all around. He gave her a sweet smile and topped it off with his best wide chocolate colored gaze. "Stop it." She crossed her arms in an attempt to fortify herself against "the look". "What?" he asked innocently. "Don't make those eyes at me. I'm tougher than I look, eh!" She glanced back at him only to find that gaze had somehow deepened, if at all possible. "Oh, get on with it," she nudged him out of the doorway and stepped out behind him. Dean had been talking to Sam about what their next move would be if the skinny man somehow came back out of the "spaceship" with a weapon. "Dean, he didn't even go all the way inside. That's a show of good faith right?" Sam reasoned. At this point he thought he could talk Dean into compliance, seeing as his older brother had lowered his weapon to his side. "Well I guess we'll see. Here he comes." Dean nodded his head towards the blue box. Sam turned around to find the Doctor, grinning as usual, backing away from the door to make way for someone. He and Dean had heard whispering but were unable to decipher what was being said and couldn't even make out if the mans companion was male of female. Both Winchesters stood tense, fully expecting the shit to hit the proverbial fan. Instead, following behind the doctor, a woman stepped out and wave shyly. A gorgeous woman. 

Her nervous smile spread slowly across her face revealing two rows of perfectly white teeth, contrasting against her smooth copper skin. Her jet black hair was pulled up into a ponytail crowning her oval shaped face. Dean straightened quickly but tried to hide his surprise from the new stranger. However, his hand relaxed on his weapon that hung at his side and he could help but raise his eyebrows at Sam, who replied with a roll of the eyes. Typical Dean, Sam thought, always on the prowl. Sure, Sam couldn't deny the fact that this woman was beautiful, she stood tall with confidence, even while she was so apprehensive. He was different from Dean, who would jump at anything that had a pretty smile and aimed it at him. The Doctor, with his hands in his pockets, rocked back on his heels looking pleased. “May I introduce Dr. Martha Jones,” he announced triumphantly. “Well, at least she’s got a real name,” Dean mumbled behind his smile. “So… you’re both doctors?” Sam asked. “Medical doctor… sort of. ” Martha said humbly. The Doctor would have none of it and corrected her “Oh, a proper doctor she is.” He had always been so proud of how talented Martha was. She thought of things he never would have considered and that made her one of his most valued companions. Sam, visibly impressed, cleared his throat to speak “ Well, I’m Sam Winchester and this is my older bro—“

“Winchester, Dean Winchester.” Dean strode forward with his hand out and a smile dripping with flirtation “so glad to meet you.” He gripped her hand gently and threw a wink in as the icing on the cake. Martha couldn't help but giggle at this. It really was like in all the movies, she thought, American men armed and full of confidence! This trip may not have gone up in smoke after all. “Please, come sit in the library so we can get to know each other better.” Dean said almost seductively. Sam hid a smile and shook his head because, honestly who could blame him? It had been months since they had a normal job in a normal town that had normal people, which meant Dean had not seen a non-Leviathan woman in what he would call “ages”. Dean, Martha, and the Doctor took seats at the only clean table in the library while Sam grabbed a flask off the bookshelf behind them.

“If you don’t mind… uh your hand, Doctor,” he poured a cap full of holy water into the completely confused man’s hand. Once he got no reaction he turned to Martha 

“Um, Doctor…” he repeated the gesture for her to hold up her hand. 

“Just Martha… I insist.” She gave him a smile that hid her confusion and amusement at his actions. He poured the water in her hand and realized he had no way for either of their guests to dry their hands. They both just sat there with wide eyes, looking at him, hands cupping little pools of water. 

“I’m sorry, I will get you a hand towel from the kitchen,” he cringed at his lack of foresight.

“Oh no worries mate… however, I am curious as to _why_ we are holding water,’’ the Doctor’s cheerfulness was almost contagious. 

“Oh- That’s holy water…” he continued when he saw the bewilderment on their faces “to be sure you’re not demons. Standard procedure.” Dean replied proudly. Sam smiled and walked off in the direction of the kitchen. Martha jumped up from her seat to follow, still holding her puddle delicately. Dean eyed the Doctor who was admiring the liquid he held, murmuring something about bringing life and one in a million trillion chances. Soon he grew bored of watching the crazy man and tuned it out, allowing his thoughts to wander elsewhere.


	3. Fancy a cuppa?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience guys! Here's some Samartha cuteness!

Sam sorted through a pile of dirty hand towels on the counter in the kitchen looking for something that resembled clean. The boys had yet to do laundry or wash dishes and it was going on two weeks, which made Sam cringe. It wasn't that bad when it was just Dean and himself but he hated having company, announced or not, when the bunker was in disarray. He spun around when he heard the light patter of feet approaching and attempted to shove the dingy towels out of site. 

"M- Martha," his voice cracked in surprise "Um, sorry about the mess... I- we haven't had much of a break to uh..." Sam wiped the counter with one of the towels aimlessly, cursing the red heat that was slowly creeping up his neck towards his cheeks. _"Dammit Sammy pull yourself together,"_ he heard the voice of his big brother in the back of his mind. The mental invasion brought on by his subconscious made him drop the towel and look at Martha head on. "Sorry." He said with a tight smile. Only then did he notice that she was still cupping the water he had poured into her hands. 

"Oh my god, I am so sorry! Let me-" he grabbed the cleanest towel he could find and dabbed the water from her hands. 

"Oh no bother," Martha laughed as Sam wiped her hands. 

"The Doctor-" Sam started to say but was cut short by a wave of Martha's hand. The Doctor had been mesmerized when she got up to follow Sam to the kitchen so there was no need to disturb the mad man. 

"Oh, he'll be fine, " she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "So... fancy a cuppa?" At this question Sam gave her a confused look that elicited more laughter from the Londoner. It was a gentle laugh that made Sam's shoulders relax and a soft smile spread across his face. When was the last time he had heard laughter that wasn't Dean's? Honestly, that was even rare these days. It was soothing to his soul. 

"I guess that's British speak for... what exactly?" he rested himself against the counter and raised an eyebrow. He fully appreciated that they were from different cultures, he had several British born friend when he was in college, but they had assimilated so well the only way you knew they weren't American was their strong accents. Dean had two categories for people: American or Not-American. He had no qualms with non-Americans, he could just care less about distinguishing them all. Martha looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, wondering what this (clearly) educated man was doing chasing monsters around for a living... but then again, was that much different from the path she had taken when she ran off with the Doctor? 

"Would you like to make tea... if you boys have any," she said with feigned annoyance "I see you at least have a kettle." Sam followed her eyes down the counter top to the dusty copper bottom kettle in the corner.

"That? That thing is ancient. We would probably get tetanus just from using it!" he scoffed.

"What? No, its beautiful," she said quietly as she walked over to the pot "you know, sometimes its the most beat up things, the things that are no longer valued and deemed useless that are the most beautiful..." She held the pot delicately. "And I have no _idea_ where that came from." She turned with a smile to see Sam staring at her with his eyes a bit misty. "So... tea?" 

"Um, what?" Sam recovered "OH yea, let me check." He rummaged through the cabinets of the kitchen, internally berating himself for not shopping earlier that week like he had planned. Sam, the healthy one of the family, always had some type of herbal or health boosting tea on hand, occasionally even black tea. Relief hit him like a tidal wave as he opened the very last cabinet door to reveal a box of vanilla Bedtime Tea, but he kept his composure like any hunter would. When he turned back, Martha was wrist deep in soapy water as she lovingly cleaned the old tea kettle and Sam swore he could hear her humming contentedly under her breath as she worked. Suds worked their way up her cocoa arms and bubbles floated around her as she worked every bit of dirt from its surface. Sam, staring again, straightened when she glanced over at him, "I found some, um, Bedtime Tea. It has vanilla and chamomile." Sam felt like a high school nerd looking for the head cheerleaders approval. 

"That will do Sam, thank you" she replied as she rinsed and filled the kettle. Sam turned on the burner of the stove before she sat the full kettle on it and started pulling clean mugs off the rack at the center of the kitchen. The work and conversation had completely destroyed his outer defenses he usually had erected when dealing with strangers, there were many layers yet, but this woman that came from the blue box had a way of making them crumble. Sam knew that Dean would say he was acting like a "chick" in a "Rom-Com" but he couldn't shake it off. How long had it been since he had even _seen_ a woman? Outside of Charlie and the lady that worked at the grocery store that Sam frequented, there had been no one for months. Now, literally out of nowhere, Martha shows up with her beautiful eyes and her quick wit. What else would happen besides Sam stumbling over himself around her? It's not like he could just bring anyone back to the "secret bunker" anyways... The song like whistle, which signaled the kettle was ready, broke into his thoughts. He and Martha went for it simultaneously. "I've got it!" they both chimed, which made Martha smile. 

"Well go on, hop to it," she said stepping aside to let the hunter grab the noisy pot. She ran over and grabbed the four porcelain mugs and a old style kitchen timer. "So, Sam, there is a proper way make a cuppa. Rule number one- wait for your water to stop boiling before pouring it over the bag." Sam nodded seriously, "Rule number two- Allow your bag to steep for two minutes, and lastly: Rule number three..." she paused for dramatic affect with three fingers in the air "I take my cup with milk and two sugars." A grin spread across Sam's face and he poured hot water into each cup, leaving a bit of space for Martha's milk. The timer was now set for two minutes so all they had to do was wait.

"So... is this what you and your brother do? You go around kicking in monster heads?" Martha asked as they waited for the tea to steep. Sam laughed, "Well I guess you could say that... It's kind of a family thing. My dad and grandad... even my mom." "Wow, it really is a family endeavor. Where are they now?" "All gone," Sam said to his boots "They're all gone. My mom when I was only six months old." "Sorry." Martha cut in, "I should have thought..." "No. No, it's okay. Really, there is no way you could have known." Sam said quietly, finally meeting her sad eyes. 

They just stood there for what seem like an eternity, just looking at each other; both contemplating what they had lost and what they still had to be grateful for. In reality it was about forty five seconds that remained on the kitchen timer and when it rang, in the dull clanking sound of years past, it shattered their "eternity" and their smiles returned. Sam grabbed one of Dean's large wooden cutting boards to use as a tray and they loaded it with the mugs, a bowl of sugar, spoons, and the small carton of milk Martha found in the fridge. The liquid sloshed a bit as Sam tried to steady himself to prevent them from spilling all of their contents. Martha found it amusing but stifled a laugh as they managed up the stairs and down the corridor to join the rest of the group.


	4. Time and Relative Dimension in Space

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long! My laptop was stuck in purgatory for some time so I had to get a new one. Enjoy!

“Ah, lovely,” the Doctor beamed when he saw the two enter the room with the steaming cups of tea. Sam placed the tray in the center of the table, willfully ignoring Dean’s pointed stares. He would hear an earful about later and, knowing his brother, be renamed Martha Stewart for an entire week. Well they would have to cross that bridge when they got to it. The Doctor and Martha both grabbed their mugs and took sips as if it were the best thing they’d received all week. “Well, alright… So you two just materialized in the front room of a top secret, underground, bunker. You’re not demons, you don’t react to iron or silver,” Sam took the lead because Dean’s mouth was still twitching as he stared at the tea in front of him. “You were set to travel to 1930’s New York,” Sam shook his head as he spoke “but accidentally landed here. Why?”

The Doctor sat with his eyes glazed over, his mouth twisted thoughtfully “Yes… why indeed.” Martha cleared her throat a bit and at Dean apologetically. 

“Oh! Yes, the who- the what- the when- the where- the why!” the slim man sprang back to life. “The TARDIS, old girl, she occasionally gets us off course, could be shoddy wiring,” he put a hands up to the sides of his face like a shield. “but don’t tell her I said that, eh?” Martha chuckled behind her tea.

“Or, there could be trouble about,” he leaned in closer to the table looking at both men with fire in his eyes; his voice had getting lower and more intense with each word. “Devastating trouble that could be threatening the extinction of an entire species or an entire planet even. This very planet perhaps,” everyone around the table had leaned in closer as the Doctor spoke and was therefore startled when he slapped his hand against the table top. 

“So! Got any of that?” the madman chirped with that familiar mischievous grin on his face. 

“Actually--” Sam started. 

“Sam!” Dean growled. How his brother could to be four inches shorter than him and thirty pounds lighter yet still shut him up by simply saying his name was beyond him. 

“Look, my little brother and I- we work alone. Civilians tend to just get in the way or get themselves killed,” Dean said in what he considered his polite tone “so if you don’t mind hopping back into your little magic box and whooshing back to where you came from, I’d be delighted.” 

“Dean--” Sam tried to interject. 

“No, Sammy. NO. We don’t even know who they are-“ 

“I’m the Doctor-” 

“But Dean just give them a chance, he might know-“ 

“Yea, he might also know how to kill us in our sleep Sam.” 

“That’s Martha, she’s a proper doctor, she’d never-” 

“Don’t I get a vote in this?” Sam pressed. 

“Ah a vote! He might be on to something-“ 

“No,” Dean pointed Sam. “No you don’t.” 

“Quiet! Everyone! Now!” 

The three went completely quiet and looked at Martha who was standing at the end of the table. 

“Whatever it is that you two are up against, it’s bad enough that the TARDIS brought us here,” she pressed her palms against the table top and leaned forward, pleased with looks on the men’s faces before her. She jabbed her finger in the Doctor’s direction “You need him.” The hunters looked at the Doctor, he sat with elbows on the table and his chin resting in one of his hands; his big brown eyes just staring at Martha in admiration. 

Dean just shook his head. Martha looked away from the Doctor and pressed on. 

“So he may not look like much, but I have been with him for some time now… and I’ve never seen him fail. Not even once.” She glanced at the Doctor to see him smiling gratefully and then looked directly at Dean. Her large almond shaped eyes pleaded with him to see reason. He shifted in his chair and broke their gaze, unable to hold his ground against the openness behind her eyes. When he looked back up he was greeted by six pairs of puppy eyes all begging him to agree to this psychotic sleep over. Sam was the worst of them all. Those weepy hazel eyes bore into Dean's soul. Well, his resolve was broken. 

“You know what? This is bullshit,” he pushed back his chair and threw his hands up. “Do whatever you want; I’m going to take a nap.” Sam, Martha, and the Doctor all grinned as they watched him head for the corridor. 

-xXx-

Dean scrubbed his hands across his face as the yellow light of the corridor flooded into his dark room when he opened the door. He had no idea how long he was out. An hour, maybe two? Sam hadn't come to get him so he assumed they had gotten nowhere in their research and was dead set on reminding them of what a bullshit idea this was in the first place. That is, as soon as he was completely awake. He made a pit stop and grabbed a beer from the fridge, ignoring his growling stomach, and headed towards the library.

He stopped in the archway and looked around, there were books everywhere, most of them strewn across the tables, some stacked neatly in chairs. The kettle had been brought in along with a large plate with a couple of pinwheel shaped cookies on it. He walked over to the table and picked up one of the pale cookies, eyeing the red center, and popped it in his mouth. He nodded his approval to the empty room as he chewed. Where the hell is everybody? His gun was tucked in the waist of his jeans as usual so he wasn't totally worried, besides Sam would have given the odd couple a run for their money and probably woken up everyone in a ten mile radius if shit had hit the fan. He had his beer turned up to his lips when he heard the sniggering coming from the blue box that sat in their war room. "Sammy?" he called out. 

He saw that the door of the box was slightly ajar and the sounds were coming from within. He stood frozen for a moment, caught between "un-fucking-believable" and "of-fucking-course". Sam was in the damn box with the crazy Brits, probably having a cup of tea with his pinky in the air. Why would he cram his overly large body into such a tiny space? He snapped into big brother mode and headed toward the box, there is NO way he was going to let his little brother play dress up in a box with that weirdo... Martha, maybe, but not the skinny dude. He pushed on the door and it swung open. 

"Sammy! Dammi-" he found himself standing on a metal walkway and surrounded by a large room. Sam and Martha sat on a cushioned bench laughing at something the Doctor was saying. The all stopped abruptly and looked at the newcomer expectantly. Dean's eyes were wild with confusion and his legs began to backtrack along the path they had came, towards the door. 

"Dean," Sam said, standing up and putting his hand out in hopes to pause his brother's backward motion. 

Dean's left shoulder slammed into the door of the TARDIS on his way out, sending the beer he was holding crashing to the ground. Sam was right in front of him in a matter of seconds. 

"Dean." 

Dean's mouth moved for a moment but no words came out. "S- s- Sammy, what the hell did I just see?" 

Martha and the Doctor stood at the door quietly, watching the brother's exchange. 

"I know, Dean, I know. It's- it's insane but if you'd just-" 

"It's bigger on the inside, Sammy. Why the _hell_ is it bigger on the inside?" he growled. The Doctor grinned, clearly delighted at something, and Martha pressed her lips and looked down. 

"Dean, just come back inside with me and the Doctor will explain everything. It's totally safe," Sam could tell that Dean was already sick of this day as a whole and now he had just had his mind blown. They had reached a precipice, even if the Doctor and Martha failed to notice, and Sam was desperately trying to pull Dean back from the edge. 

As if on queue the Doctor and Martha turned and went back inside the TARDIS, Sam was next, followed by a hesitant Dean. They all made it to the console and stood watching as Dean walked in circles, just to taking it all in, the occasional (and totally expected) "son-ova-bitch" falling from his lips. 

The Doctor stepped forward after a few minuets. "So, what would you like to know?" 


	5. Monsters vs Aliens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick chapter! As I said in the comments I am in grad school so I am officially a vampire-zombie that responds only to assignment deadlines, so I am happy to finally be able to update this fic. It is one of my favorites so I would love to make it fairly long. If you want to follow it, subscribe so that you get an update when I add chapters
> 
> Anyway, they Doctors and the boys find a clue and get a second wind. Lot's of Doctor talk in this chapter. **I am NOT British**, in fact I am _Southern American_ and I apologize profusely to any readers if I am way off on my representation of the Doctor and Martha. I always welcome Betas that brit-pick!

Dean leans against the rail, resting his head on his forearms. Forearms that were accustomed to swinging machetes, asphyxiating full grown men, and rendering some unconscious from a single powerful swing. He groaned. He was not in pain, not a physical pain, but every time he lifted his head to look around the console room his stomach flipped and his head swam a bit. He sat not to far away from the doors of the TARDIS just in case he needed to leave quickly. He didn't trust the skinny guy anymore than when they first "landed" in the bunker.

Sam hovered nearby ready to assist or subdue his older brother if the need be presented. He had never really seen Dean like this because nothing ever impressed the man, not even the realization that angels actually existed and one was assigned to be his guardian. Dean Winchester had seen and done it all. He felt horrible about how Dean was feeling and as usual he thought of everything he could have done differently to have prevented this. He should have been listening out for Dean when he came out of his room. He knew Dean would make a bee line for the kitchen to grab a beer, detour to find him to complain about being starved and ask what they wanted to eat. Perhaps he could have woken Dean up with cold beer waiting and told him about what he was about to see. Another groan broke his thoughts and he looked over at his hunched brother.

"Hey, Dean... you need some water? or maybe some uh... scotch?" Sam attempted. 

He is rewarded with a single raised finger. Dean straightened up and took a deep breath, turning abruptly and pointing that same finger at the Doctor. 

"Alright, lets get this over with and no... _riddles_ or what ever it is you like to do to toy with peoples minds. I need straight answers." Dean said, eyes pinned on the Doctor who nodded seriously.

"You have my word."

"Okay. So... how does _this_ " he waved his hands to gesture at the room "happen inside something so small?"

"Well, it's a rather simple scientific explanation, dimensional transcenden-" 

"English."

"Oi! I'm pretty sure I was speaking English mate," huffed the Doctor.

"Forgive me, _laymen's terms._ " The snark was palpable.

"Right. Right... The TARDIS' exterior is where right now?"

"The war room, pretty obvious."

"Absolutely! The interior of the TARDIS, however, is not in your war room. Do you understand the meaning of alternative dimensions?"

"Like heaven and hell, the here but not here bullshit," he nodded as he spoke "yea, I get it." 

A moment passed before Dean spoke again, freeing the them to release the breath they hadn't realized they were holding. 

"So what did you nerds find out while I was sleep?"

xXX

"So what you call the Leviathans are actually a parasitic, hive minded species known as Dragoule, that assumes the form of a viscous black liquid when forced out side of its host. When a collective breaks from the hive mind, unlike the Ood, it is cut off from its thoughts and must use other methods of communication." 

They sat around a table in the library listening as the Doctor spoke, leafing through a thick dusty volume that he had pulled from the TARDIS' library. 

"I initially thought this could be a new species, something I'd never heard of...." he trailed off as he stopped at the page he had been looking for. "I searched the TARDIS database and, sure enough, there they were. The Dragoule. They originate on the oceanic planet called U504-Drake, Mutter's Spiral, which is about the size of your sun, 153 hour days, dense atmosphere. Hence, the only species being a liquid bodied parasite." 

"So what you're saying is... The Blob is what has been slaughtering innocent people and plan to take over our world?" Sam scoffed at the idea of some parasite nearly wiping out Earth's entire population. 

"Oh no, certainly not. The mind is very intelligent and will retain any information it learns from its host. This species has conquered many civilizations before it reached your planet... Although, it does seem they are trying a different approach this time around." 

" _The Balm of Death_ , _The Black Suffering_ ," Martha had the dusty text in front of her now, eyes wide. "They have wiped out humanoid life forms on hundreds of planets... Doctor... what are we dealing with?" 

"Something that has survived long before any of us got here."

"Can we kill it?" Dean deadpanned. This is what mattered to the Winchesters, how they got through so many cases before; if it can be killed, everything else can be accomplished with planning. 

They all stared at the Doctor waiting for his response. 

"Short answer: No. Longer answer: You can send the central mind back to where it came from and the removed collectives will have no choice but to follow." 

"And how, exactly, do we do that?" Sam nearly whispered, praying that it be that easy. 

"According to-" Martha hoists the book up to see the title " _Gallifreyan Recordings of Parasitic Alien Species_ , every civilization that has successfully defended themselves did so in a different way. It looks like we are on our own." 

"At least we know what we are up against. I'm gonna call Bobby." Dean stood and walked toward the corridor of the Bunker. 

"Okay, I guess that leaves us to the research," Sam's face warmed a bit as he met Martha's gaze. He needed a book, any book, ASAP. 

"Yes, I guess it does." 

"Well then!" the Doctor's sudden outburst snapped the moment in half and the two looked up at him. "I will leave you two in charge of this. I have to do a bit of research myself." 

He turned on his heel and sauntered in the direction of the TARDIS; after pushing the blue door open he turned back again. 

"Unless... you are up for a bit of adventure?" his eyebrow cocked and his tone blurring the line between challenge and enticement. 

A smile spread across Martha's face that raised her cheeks and she spun in her seat to look as Sam, gorgeous eyes beaming at him. How could he possibly let her and the Doctor just leave without him? Dean would be okay, they wouldn't be gone long, and it was for the research. He didn't really know what it meant to go on an adventure with them but he knew it was where he wanted to be at the moment. He ripped a sheet from the legal pad next to him and wrote out: 

_Hey Dean,_  
_Went out with the Brits, be back soon._  
_Call cell if you need me.  
_Sam_ _

As soon as he dropped the pen Martha had her hand in his, dragging him from his seat and he grinned at how she nearly vibrated with excitement. When he stepped into the TARDIS, he turned and glanced at the Bunker library once more, and he heard a cheerful shout of "Allons-y!" from within the console room. The TARDIS door swung closed and with a sudden jerk, they were off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, one thing I am improving on is resisting the urge to make every chapter 1k words! I realized from reading certain fics on here that a 500 word chapter is so much better than nothing for three months. SOOOOO, bear with me friends. I write because it makes me happy, I write because it makes you happy, and happy people spread joy.


	6. U504-Drako

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO SO SO sorry for the long wait on ALL of my SPN fics! I was in a master's program, went through a whole life changing health ordeal, then had to pick up all my pieces and try to put me back together.... It's not quite complete but I feel like my fics and the characters I love will give me some love therapy. <3
> 
> What do you guys think?

The TARDIS jolted violently causing the three people within to nearly tumble across the console room. Where ever they had landed was clearly unsafe to remain there for any extended amount of time. The Doctor pulled the monitor about so that they could all have a safe look at their surroundings without actually venturing out, signaling to Sam and Martha to come closer. The fuzzy picture came into view on the screen and it was clear that they were no longer on the precious blue planet they called home.

Water was literally everywhere, oceans upon oceans, there was no end or beginning to this massive expanse of liquid. It rocked and swelled at least one hundred feet into the air, there where blackened clouds in the sky as far as the eye could see, and lightning streaked across the sky and appeared to continue its path down into the depths of the ocean without resistance. As the camera panned across the scene they could see water spouts in the distance accompanied by the same menacing streaks of lightning, and huge water swells. 

"This, my dear friends, is U504-Drako," the Doctor spoke solemnly. 

"Y- you mean... out there?" Sam stuttered a bit, pointing at the door. The Time Lord simply nodded. 

"Could we have a peek? The TARDIS will protect us won't she?" Martha said with a hopeful smile. 

"Ah, Doctor Martha Jones, that is what I love about the human species. Always learning, wanting to _feel_ rather than just see, needing to experience rather than just be told," he smiled gently as he spoke. 

"It's fascinating isn't it? This world, in all its chaos, yielded life..." he seemed lost in thought for a moment. "Well, I would advise against it anyhow. Take a look." 

Martha peered up at the monitor again, which was now flooded with percentages and charts, most lit up in the color red. Her gasp brought Sam to her side. 

"What is it?" 

"These- these parameters are incredible," she pointed frantically with her finger. "Look at this, the air would be like acid to our skin and lungs. The water, if you can call it that, has a pH below 5 and is heavy with... what is this compound? It's raised the conductivity of the water tremendously."

Sam scratched his head as Martha continued to mumble on about the composition of the clouds and how the rain would react when in contact with human flesh. He glanced down and noticed the Doctor looking at him curiously over his glasses. 

"Bit of a genius we've got, eh?" 

Sam chuckled lightly, "We most certainly do."

The Doctor motioned him over. "Have a look." 

The second monitor showed a transparent circular form that seemed to be pulsating in the sky. You could see through it but it distorted the images behind it, making them swim around as if it were all an illusion. A quite *blip blip blip* came from the monitor as digits scrolled across the bottom of the screen. When numbers finally settled, the words flashed across the monitor, plain as day. 

*** PORTAL ORIGIN: UNKNOWN * PORTAL UNSTABLE ***

The Doctor tapped commands into the console's keyboard and waited. The tension in the air so thick one could barely breath. The flashing words disappeared and seconds later a statement, or the answer to the question the Doctor had input rather, appeared in their place. 

*** PORTAL DESTINATION: EARTH * GEHENNA VALLEY ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for how short this is!! Don't hate me. :(


End file.
